


Forget

by glassfiguress



Category: South Park
Genre: Gay, Implied Sexual Content, M/M, Underage Drinking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-25
Updated: 2018-05-25
Packaged: 2019-05-13 13:03:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,808
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14749386
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/glassfiguress/pseuds/glassfiguress
Summary: Kyle never thought he was gay. Then again, he didn't think he was in love with his best friend.





	Forget

Kyle Broflovaski wasn't gay. Well he thought he wasn't. But he didn't seem straight, either. Ever since he could remember it's been him and Stan. Cartman was there too, but they never paid attention to him. Kenny was there, but mostly he was getting into accidents. Stan and him were best friends, well more than that. They were Super Best Friends, and that was a helluva lot more important than just best friends.   
It never occurred to Kyle that it wasn't normal to be overly affectionate with your best friend. I mean sure, hugs were welcome and sure, Best Friend Handshakes were common, but he never realized wanting to kiss your best friend wasn't normal. Wanting to shove your tongue down your best friend's throat? Not normal, apparently.   
He could remember it vividly. Too vivid, for a memory he wanted to repress and beat down with a shovel. It was 6th grade, and Stan was at his house. He was talking about Wendy, and how she wanted to go on a date with Stan. His words were still echoing into Kyle's ear.  
"But I don't want that, you know? I don't really want to be her boyfriend."   
And something possessed Kyle- (his mom said the Devil)- and he leaned into Stan. He pressed his lips against Stan's.   
Then his hand reached up for Stan's cheek, and he was off of him. Stan was staring at Kyle like he had committed murder, and with a soft whisper he said, "Dude."   
Kyle remembered apologies spilling out of his mouth, but Stan had rushed away.   
Stan and Kyle shunned each other until 7th grade. The longest they had ever fought. But they hadn't really fought. They ignored each other; well, Stan ignored Kyle and brushed him off. Kyle tried hard to communicate with Stan, but Stan wouldn't have it. Kyle got the rights to Kenny, because once Cartman found out what Kyle had done he said he'd catch the gay. Kenny wasn't like that though.   
After the long break, Stan reached out to Kyle. It took him by surprise, but he wasn't going to be ungrateful.  
Stan made him promise they wouldn't talk about what happened, and they'd go back to being Super Best Friends. No mention of the thing that nearly split them up. Kyle agreed. During this time, he talked to Kenny about his feelings. He wished to talk to Stan, but he figured Kyle's possible homosexuality would be lumped in with the "what happened".   
So they weren't Super Best Friends, not even Best Friends. They were good friends, not Good Friends, but just there. After time, things mended until once again they were Super Best Friends. It lasted two year until Kyle fucked it up again in 9th grade.  
He had drank a lot from his parents' liquor cabinet. He was drunk out of his mind, and he had climbed up to Stan's window.   
"Psttt, Stan, let me in,"   
"Kyle?"   
Stan had opened the window and stared at Kyle curiously. "Are you... drunk?"   
Kyle giggled. "Guilty."   
Stan had looked at Kyle like he was insane. "Kyle, why the hell are you drunk?"   
"Why does anyone get drunk, silly? To forget."   
Stan was getting furious, Kyle could tell. It was a bit of a turn on, but there were more important things to (not) think about.   
"Dude, what the fuck do you have to forget?"   
"You."   
"Me?"  
Kyle remembered blubbering, and somehow he went from standing near the window to on Stan's bed. He didn't remember what he said, but he remembered a long speech. Kyle could only guess he was confessing how he still loved him. Stan had sat there, staring at Kyle in the same way.  
"Stop it," he grumbled.  
"Stop what?" Stan asked.  
"Stop looking at me like there's something fucking wrong with me."   
Stan held his hands up. "Shit dude, I'm sorry. But it's kinda hard when your best friend tells you that he loves-"   
Kyle had stood up and shouted, "It's kinda hard when you love your best friend!"   
Stan told him to shut the fuck up, and he was sorry. Kyle remembered feeling the tears roll down his cheeks as he felt like a fuck up. Stan told him he wasn't a fuck up, and Kyle remembered looking into his eyes. His beautiful, beautiful eyes.   
Stan was on top of him and they were moving together. Kyle had reached up to take off Stan's shirt.   
Stan had shrugged him away. "No... No I can't do that now. Let's just..."   
Kyle nodded. He didn't want to fuck up perhaps his only shot with Stan. They had kissed for what seemed eternity until Stan scooted away.   
He offered to talk about it, and that's all Kyle had wanted.   
"Will you ignore me again?"   
"What?"  
Kyle sighed. "Are you going to ignore me for a year? Are we going to have to spend two years becoming friends again, only for me to get hammered and fuck it up because I'm in love with you?"   
"You're in love with me?"   
It had started again. But this time, their feud lasted two months. Kyle had gotten hammered (again; it was almost a daily occurrence) and went to a party. He didn't remember who's party it was, but Stan would be there. Kenny and Cartman would be too, so he wouldn't completely be alone.   
Kyle kept getting drunker and drunker, reaching the edge of his tolerance. Something had set him off, and he couldn't remember how he got there. He was in the living room, and Stan was there with Wendy. She was grinding against him, and something in him snapped.   
"You fucking asshat!"   
Stan looked at him with a horrified expression. He didn't ever want to see Stan look at him like that. "Kyle, what's wrong?"  
"You know what's wrong you cunt!"   
Stan grabbed his arm, and dragged him away. "Not here, okay?"   
"Not here? Well where, Stan? Where? We can't talk about it at my house, or yours, or anywhere, apparently."   
"It's just not a good time..."   
"Is it ever a good time?" Kyle snapped. "I know your problem, Stan. You're afraid."   
"Afraid of what?"  
"Afraid that you might not be so straight after all. You're afraid that you might like your homosexual friend and you're afraid to deal with it."   
Stan sneered. "That's ridiculous. It's not my fault you're a fag."   
Kyle looked at Stan in horror. Stan looked at Kyle in shock as well; he couldn't have believed he said that.   
"Fuck you," Kyle spat.   
"Kyle..."   
Kyle, this time, wouldn't give him the time of day. Stan called him, called his parents, stood outside Kyle's windows and begged him to forgive him.   
Then Stan got drunk again.   
Kyle always knew Stan had a problem with alcohol, just like his dad. Even when they were feuding, Kyle knew. He knew from Kenny, who knew from Cartman. There was even a time when they were in fourth grade... Stan always seemed to be wasted. In class he was drunk, at home he was drunk. When he got drunk, he stopped bugging Kyle.   
All of a sudden, he had stopped. He had stopped calling, he stopped apologizing and begging for forgiveness. He was drowning himself in the pain.   
"I don't know what the fuck you did to him, faggot," Cartman spat at him, "but whatever it was, you better fucking fix it."   
So Kyle tried. He snuck into Stan's house through his window. But he wasn't there. So he waited, and waited, until the door had opened. Stan and Wendy were there, and Stan was feeling her up and kissing her. Kyle sat on Stan's bed in horror, but they hadn't noticed him. Wendy had done something he liked, because Stan moaned.  
He moaned, "Fuck, Kyle."   
Wendy had pushed him off and yelled, and then they noticed Kyle and she yelled some more. She stomped off, and Stan turned to him.   
"What the hell do you want Kyle?"   
"Are you drunk?" Kyle asked, standing up cautiously.   
"Yeah," Stan mumbled. "I'm always drunk. But I was gonna fuck Wendy, so I'm especially drunk."   
"I wanted to talk to you about that. You can't just keep drinking, Stan. You're gonna fuck yourself up."   
Stan laughed. "Like I haven't done that already? I fucked everything up, Kyle. Everything. I ignored you because I was scared. I lost a year of hanging out with you because I'm a fucking dumbass."   
"You're not a dumbass, Stan."   
"Like hell I'm not! I've spent so much of my life loving you and being scared because 'that's gay'. And it's not like I could tell my parents! They act fine with it, all of them do but once they think we're gay, they flip their shit. I'm the biggest dumbass in the world, Kyle. I fucked up everything I care about."   
"You didn't fuck up everything, Stan."   
"Like hell I fucking didn't! Don't act like I didn't fuck you up."   
Kyle rolled his eyes. "So maybe you did, so what?"  
"So what? I hurt the person I love, Kyle, over and over. And I'm still not done! I keep hurting you, and fucking you up. Tell me then I'm not a fuck up."   
Kyle lowered his eyes. "You're not a fuck up." He moved towards Stan- one step, two, three. He had him in front of him, then pinned up against the wall. Kyle had his lips on Stan's and his hands on the hem of his shirt. He was pulling off his shirt, then pulling off his own. He was pulling off Stan's hat to tangle his fingers in his hair. Stan had knocked back his own to do the same. Kyle's hands were on Stan's jeans, and Stan's hands on Kyle's.   
Kyle woke up at 3 a.m. to discover that Stan wasn't next to him. He put on some pants (just in case Stan's parents were up) and went to find him. He didn't really have to look far.   
Stan was in the bathroom, puking his guts up and then some. Kyle got him some water and returned. He gave it to him and rubbed his back. Tears were in Stan's eyes.   
"I'm sorry." Stan started sobbing. "I'm so sorry for ignoring you, and acting like a dick."   
Kyle continued rubbing Stan's back. "It's okay."   
"It isn't. It isn't okay Kyle, and I love you. I'm so sorry."   
"We can start over," Kyle mumbled. He rested his head on Stan's shoulder blade. He closed his eyes and mumbled, "You had just said that Wendy wanted to go on a date with you. You had just said you didn't want to be her boyfriend."   
"Kyle-"   
"Shh. I had just kissed you."   
Softly, Stan said, "Dude."   
"I think I'm in love with you," Kyle said back.   
"I love you," Stan replied.   
"I love you too."


End file.
